


Te Amo

by shipskicksandgiggles



Series: Halloween fics [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Día de los Muertos | Day of the Dead, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, Mexican Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26980630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipskicksandgiggles/pseuds/shipskicksandgiggles
Summary: Día de los Muertos has been the only holiday Tony Stark has managed to celebrate without fail since his mother died. Having to add another calaca was the most painful thing he ever had to do.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Halloween fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1969048
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Te Amo

**Author's Note:**

> so this was based on a prompt from @angxlsgrxce on tumblr. I did take some artistic liberties with the idea but yknow  
> prompt: “i know you missed me. just admit it. i saw you visit my grave every day.”

Holidays were one of Tony’s favorite things to share with his mom. Maria had taught him to honor holidays as sacred, and although Tony didn’t take the same amount of time and care, he tried his best, with exactly one notable exception: _Día_ _de los Muertos_. 

After Maria had died, he had made sure he had an _ofrenda_ properly prepared each and every year. He made the _pan de muerta_ by hand, remembering her guidance of “ _Do not overmix the dough, hijo_ ,” and offered up _alote_ to her spirit. 

The Jarvis’ also had a place on the altar. Tony had spent a ridiculous amount of time perfecting soufflés for Edwin Jarvis, but Ana’s native Hungarian dishes came much easier to him. Even Aunt Peggy had joined his little family of _calacas_ when she passed.

Howard never had a place on that altar. 

Despite the joy behind the holiday, Tony always felt slightly melancholic amongst the bright marigolds. He missed his family. 

He didn’t think anyone else from his family would be placed on the _ofrenda_ any time soon. 

_God, Peter_. 

It hurt to think about. He hadn’t been able to save the kid. _His_ kid. 

May had helped a lot, actually. Tony had come to her late one night, crying because he didn’t know where to start, and he missed the kid so damn much. 

She had sat him down with a cup of tea and they talked. About Peter, about how he knew the risks of being Spider-Man, and how it wasn’t Tony’s fault that he’s been taken down by the psycho mad scientist that Tony had almost blasted into oblivion when he saw Peter’s lifeless body on the pavement below. They talked about all the good he had done, both in Queens and for the Avengers. 

About how smart he was, and how the world moved a little slower without Peter Parker in it. 

So this year, Tony added churros to the pile of offerings, alongside the new spider-themed _calavera_ and one more elaborate _calaca_ alongside all the old ones. 

The celebration was quiet. Traditionally, it would be loud, full of people singing and dancing, but he preferred to celebrate on his own, his memories untainted by the relentless noise. 

Tony sat on the floor, and he began speaking to the _ofrenda_ in front of him. He began by recalling his older memories, the ones of Maria and Ana and Edwin. Then the ones of Peggy, more recent but far enough gone that they didn’t hurt further than a dull pang in his chest. 

His speech broke when he reached Peter. He eventually started telling his favorite story about Peter. It had happened post battle. Peter was still running on an adrenaline high, and Tony had barely managed to convince him to drink a Gatorade before he collapsed. Not even a minute later, the kid was swinging up into the ceiling, babbling on about some sort of science or another, and had eventually landed on Steve’s shoulders, much to the soldier’s surprise. Chaos had only broken out from there, and by the end of the night, they were all exhausted and laughing. 

Tony even managed to laugh through his tears by the end of it. He looked up at the altar, and apparently he had remembered the day too vividly, because he could swear Peter was standing in front of him, laughing along with him. 

“Mr. Stark, I can’t believe you pulled this together.”

He jumped to his feet, shocked at the voice. 

“Are you okay, Mr. Stark?” his imagination, no _Peter_ asked. 

“I’m fine, _hijo_. Is this- Are you-”

“Am I real? That depends. Can you see me?”

Tony didn’t trust his voice, so he only nodded. 

“Then I suppose I am real.”

“How?” was all Tony could think to say. 

“I’m not sure,” Peter told him. “All I know is that I miss you. And May. And Ned and MJ. I miss the team. I guess this just helped me to pull through and come back long enough that I could see you again.”

“God, _hijo_. Are you alright?”

“Other than being dead you mean?” Tony felt his breath seize up in his chest even as Peter tried to play off the joke. “Mr. Stark, _papá_ , I was joking. I’m fine, I promise. I met your mom here. She reminds me of you. The Jarvis’ are wonderful people, and so is Ms. Carter. They told me to say hello if I made it through. I’ve been able to see my parents and uncle Ben again too. They wanted to thank you for helping me while I was alive. And Ben wants you to pass on a message to May to tell her that he loves her even after death.”

Tony felt himself start crying again. “I can’t believe you’re here, kiddo.”

Peter smiled. “I know _papá_. **I know you missed me, you’re allowed to say it. I saw you visit my grave every day**.” 

And that was the thing, wasn’t it. Tony had visited his memorial every day. At first he had worn disguises to pass the crowds there for Spider-Man, but once they dissipated, he didn’t try and hide. “I never thought I would see you again. If that was as close I could get-” He choked on his own words as a sob built in his chest. 

“And now I’m here. You will see me again someday, _papá,_ I promise. For now though, it’s almost midnight. I have to get back. Give everyone my love, and never forget how much you mean to me and everyone else your life has ever touched. Until we meet again, _papá. Te amo.”_

Peter faded away again, and Tony felt his knees hit the floor. 

Before he could think about what he was doing he called May. 

“ _s everything okay, Tony?”_ came her voice. 

“He says he loves you. They both do.”

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I hope yall like the spin I took with this? writing Tony as Mexican felt really good actually and I'm not upset with this take  
> 2\. yell at me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/playboyphilanthro-pissed)


End file.
